


On The Run

by KinsleeTheNormalHuman



Category: The Great Mouse Detective (1986)
Genre: Crossdressing, Great Mouse Detective, M/M, Why?, because they're gay duh, depends on how I feel, i'm making my own content i want to see, idk this may have nsfw in future chapters, if people like it i'll write more soon, it doesn't actually happen but that's basically what it is, mouse prostitution, ratigan helps basil clear his name, ratigan's not dead
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2020-12-20 23:10:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21064739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KinsleeTheNormalHuman/pseuds/KinsleeTheNormalHuman
Summary: Can you imagine being framed for a crime you didn’t commit?Because Basil could not begin to fathom why Scotland Yard all showed up to his residence, ready to arrest him for one of the cases he was investigating for them! Quite rude of the boys, considering all the things he had done on behalf of London’s lawmen. You would think they would at least think twice about it. No such luck.The detective was standing at his desk, conducting an experiment to catch the culprit when Ms. Judson answered the door to find two policemen ready to arrest him. Being the strong woman she was, she entirely refused their entry without wiping their feet on the welcome mat- She had just mopped, for goodness sake! This gave Basil just enough time to retrieve his tweed jacket and hat, then unlock the window and hop through it to avoid that fiasco of an arrest that would be.No one would ever think of him as a law-abiding man if someone were to see him being hauled around in handcuffs! Whatever the case may be, he had to clear his good name before he could go home. And that brings us to the current moment…





	1. Parlor Girls

**Author's Note:**

> This is some self-indulgent stuff I wanted to write, but I also want to post here more. I mean, if you don't like, don't read? I like Basil in dresses.

Basil had taken the disguise of a lowlife in the streets of London to remain discreet and unrecognized. He walked down alleys, slipped through the cracks, loitered around shady places, all to make sure no one knew the respectable Basil Of Baker Street was not him. He had used what little evidence that he didn’t have at home to trail some thugs into a seedy bar on the riverfront. It looked familiar, but Basil was far too distracted in keeping an eye on the men who were chatting away. They had to say something about the case he was on… They kept leading up to it but falling short. It was nerve-wracking and infuriating to watch them be so cautious.

The sound of music caught Basil’s attention, and he turned his head to the stage to see… Miss Kitty. This was the bar that Dawson and he had trailed Fidget the bat too. How had he not noticed that before? He was surprised this place was still afloat without Ratigan’s criminal underground supporting it… Maybe the alcohol was decent. When it wasn’t drugged, at least. His fingers rhythmically rapped the table as a plan formulated in his head… Those men were hollering at Miss Kitty as she sang her song. Could she maybe convince the men to spill their secrets?

Only one way to find out. Basil got up and slipped around the room quietly and unnoticed. He got the guard to the dressing room to leave his post by rolling a penny across the way. He clearly didn’t get paid the amount due, because he chased after it like it was a fortune. Once he made his way to the dressing room titled ‘Miss Kitty,’ he sat and waited for her on a little couch as he admired all those dresses she had.

She had so many dresses. Way too many dresses on a rack, and it also seemed a full dresser had even more. She enjoyed the finer things it appeared… These dresses were expensive. Revealing. Basil always thought it odd how you paid more for clothing that has less clothing. Skimpy things were worth a fortune. He picked up a lavender dress and held it up to his body to see how it may look on him…

That’s about the time Miss Kitty walked in to see him admiring himself in the mirror with the dress pressed to his torso. Her soft gasp sent him quickly putting it back on the rack and turning to face her. He cleared his throat and bowed slightly.

_ “Miss Kitty, my apologies for coming into your room while you weren’t here. I have something I need to discuss with you-” _

_ “... Are you… That Basil fellow?” _ She asked, stepping forward to get a better look at his face. The man was undoubtedly startled that he recognized him so quickly. He stood up straight. Well, not like he could deny it… Just hope she didn’t scamper off to tell of the sighting.

_ “You’re correct. So, you must know I don’t wish to do immoral things with you. I’m not that kind of man- Will you sit so I can ask a favor of you? I do need your help.” _

_ “What’s in it for me?” _ She asked, crossing her arms and raising a brow. She had lost that sweet showgirl exterior in the privacy of her dressing room. There was a reason she worked in a shitty place like this and survived to see the next day.

_ “Ah… Well… I’m afraid I haven’t any money… But nevermind that! I don’t know how you feel about the law, of course, but I need your help bringing criminals to justice! And you’re just the person who can get the information I need out of them!” _

Miss Kitty thought on that for a moment. She seemed somewhat reluctant at first, but slowly… She got a mischievous look on her face.

_ “Sure, I can help ya’.” _

_ “Oh! Excellent-” _

_ “But I’m not talking to those boys for you. You’re going to.” _

_ “.... I beg your pardon?” _

Miss Kitty let out a giggle as she walked up to him and circled him to confirm something. She picked up that lavender dress he had and held it up to him. She laid it in his arms and sat in front of her vanity.

_ “You seem pretty good at disguises. How about I doll you up like a showgirl, and you can go out there, do a song and dance, then you can get those boys yourself?” She asked with a devious look in her eyes. “After all, I’m tired after my performance. I have an awful memory too… So it would be better for you, right?” _

Basil was flustered. He stared at her, babbling and trying to get some sort of reply to come out. He looked down at the dress and let out a heavy sigh. She definitely had a point… He just didn’t like it. He composed himself and nodded. He sat down on a stool in front of her and prepared himself to be ‘dolled up.’

But he was in no way prepared to look at himself in the mirror once she was done. He could definitely pass as a woman… Just one with a slightly off facial structure. What little hair he had was curled and puffed out. Rouge cheeks managed even with his brown fur. Lipstick… Lavender to match the dress. Eyeshadow. The whole getup. He stepped behind her screen to put on the devil’s tool, a corset. Then came the dress. Some knee-high socks? Oh, he felt so scandalized! High heels, satan’s choice in torture it seemed. Long white gloves to hide his more masculine arms. He looked like a dainty little showgirl, for sure. He was lucky to have a slim figure for a man; otherwise, this wouldn’t work in the slightest. Miss Kitty was rather impressed with her work…

She took him to the backstage and started to help him to prepare to perform. Lucky for him, this wasn’t one of those tear-away dresses. But he did still have to work hard to make the men not boo him off stage… They did some vocal exercises to help him sound more feminine. He would definitely pass off as a decent woman … Now, what on EARTH would he sing?

He had… An idea. If he wanted to appeal to these men, he’d need to tug some heartstrings. He had an idea… But was it technically stealing? No, he was dead. And it was made for him after all… And he’d change it up some. It was the only song that was catchy enough for him to know by heart that wasn’t classical.

The curtains pulled open. It was showtime.


	2. Throwback Tunes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basil's gonna sing a song.

The first time Basil had heard the song, it was for his demise. It was all he could hear besides Dawson pleading with him to save their lives with one of his bright ideas. He did, of course, but not before having a spiraling depressive episode. He was overdramatic, but not nearly as much as the writer of the song. … He wrote a song to kill his arch-nemesis as it played in the background. Could you get more theatrical than that?

Well, Ratigan definitely could. He did manage to do it. Constantly. It was one of the things Basil hated but loved in the man. An evil genius who would make a show of everything? It would make anyone swoon. Basil wasn’t an exception, but he would never admit to that. Now he was going to sing that song written for him… But in a different key. Draw out the notes and make them an emotional experience. The way to get these rough and tough men to like you was to convince them you were a delicate flower who they could either taint with their approaches or protect like a precious treasure. It would tell a lot about a man depending on which they chose.

Right now, however, Basil would not be able to stop and ponder about all the rugged faces in the crowd. That blinding light and the piano man playing a little riff told him that it was time to get on with the plan. Seduce the men, get the information, then get the hell out of there before they either caught on that ‘she’ was a he... Or before they started getting too eager to get 'her' in the backroom.

_ “...Go~odbye, So soon-” _

That got patrons' attention. Good.

_ “And isn't this a crime?...” _

Basil placed a hand on his chest as if it pained ‘her’ to say these things. Like she was done wrong. Play the part.

_ “We know by now that time knows how to fly…” _

A wave of the hand in the distance. Maybe she’d appear as if she’d lost her lover overseas?

_ “So here's goodbye, so soon…” _

She went to place a hand to her lips as if she shushing herself from an outburst. Telling a narrative was important!

_ “You'll find your separate way…” _

With every word she sung and drew out, it sounded as if she was in mourning. Every bachelor here that wasn’t respectable would go after a widow. Easy targets. Men would not stop staring.

_ “With time so short, I'll say so long-” _

She reached out and grasped at nothing. She was going for a look as if she tried to hold onto the time she had. It brought tears to the eyes of some of the men. They were probably the widowers in the audience.

_ “And go, so soon.” _

She ended her words softly. Didn’t want to leave that verse, because the next one would hurt to say. Basil felt his chest tighten. That was odd. Was he feeling guilty for tricking these men?

_ “Go~odbye” _

No. Saying goodbye. That hurt. Why did that hurt?

_ “You lead me on, I followed you.” _

Basil had managed a little lyrical swap so that it would fit the narrative she was telling better.

_ “I was like your shadow for the longest while…” _

A woman was living in the shadow of a man she loved. That was believable. It was getting harder and harder for Basil to focus. His chest hurt. He was too into the role. That had to be it. This song meant nothing. It was made for his own death.

_ “Now as you see, this game is through.” _

She clenched her fist, lowered her head, and grit her teeth. Leading her on, playing a game, it was hurting the hearts of men who had fallen in love young and were played. Nearly all the men were in tears. This wasn’t going the way he wanted. He needed the song to end happily. But he couldn’t… He couldn’t manage it through the heavy burden on his chest.

_ “So although it hurts, I'll try to smile-” _

A pained smile, looking to the audience, being happy for a lover? The narrative was becoming a mess! Get yourself together, Basil! This was a performance, and you’re messing it all up!

_ “As I say goodbye, too soon.” _

Too soon? Dying young. Maybe the narrative was back on track.

_ “And isn't this a crime? _

Breaking a heart should be a crime; everyone who was bawling in the pub would agree. Basil should get arrested for his crimes.

_ “We know by now that time knows how to fly…” _

Basil couldn’t manage to focus anymore. The song felt like it lasted an eternity as he poured his heart and soul into it.

_ “So here's goodbye, so soon.” _

_ “We found our separate ways.” _

_ “With time so short, you said so long…” _

_ “-And go, so soon.” _

_ “Go~odbye” _

_ “Go~odbye, so soon.” _

_ “And isn't this a crime?” _

_ “You know by now that time knows how to fly.” _

_ “So here's goodbye, so soon-” _

_ “I'll find my separate way.” _

_ “With time so short I'll say so long-” _

_ “And go, so soon.” _

_ “...Goodbye…” _

Basil didn’t know precisely when tears started streaming down his eyes. He was under so much emotional stress, being alone in the streets… Mourning his arch-nemesis. The fall from Big Ben. The images had flooded back to him. He had to be strong. He couldn’t show Olivia or Hiram or DAWSON of all people that he missed the rat who tried to kill him. Why did he miss him? It had bothered Basil into those late and sleepless nights. He couldn’t worry about that right now, though. Not over the sound of the crowd erupting into cheers and sobs, clapping and hollering. Right, Basil had just sung to these people. He nearly forgot while he was tangled in his own thoughts.

He took a curtsy and dashed off the left stage to get out of those boiling spotlight lamps. Miss Kitty had met him there, looking concerned when those tears didn’t stop flowing when he looked down at her. She took him by the arm and hauled him back to the dressing room. His makeup was running, after all.

Once they were back inside, Miss Kitty wiped his tears with a hanky tucked away behind her vanity. Basil was somewhat embarrassed to be crying in front of people, and then being taken care of. He was silent, but once Miss Kitty finished applying back the makeup, she looked him dead in the eyes.

_ “You sang that song… The boss. He wrote that song. He wrote it for you. And you went and sung it like it.” _

That was right. Miss Kitty did work for Ratigan while he was alive. How did she know about it? He was about to ask when she hushed him by physically keeping his mouth shut with her hands.

_ “You sang it like a… Like a love song.” _

That made Basil flush. Did he? Oh, God, he did. That welled something up inside him that he had pushed down so long ago. When he first met Ratigan. Feelings for him. Something he had hidden under lock and key and then threw the key into the harbor. He looked horrified at her saying that out loud. He grabbed her by the wrists and pulled her hands away to speak.

_ “That’s ridiculous!-” _

_ “Do you want to see him again?” _

_ “Well, I never!-” _

_ “Did you love him?” _

_ “Will you!-” _

_ “Do you still love him?” _

_ “I didn’t say!-” _

_ “You do! You did love him and  _ still _ love him! It’s written all over your face!” _

_ “Enough! It doesn’t matter! You don’t have any proof, and it’s not like he’s alive to tell anyway!” _

_ “... … …” _

Miss Kitty went quiet. Why did she go quiet? She looked suspicious. Did… No. He couldn’t have survived the fall. They never found the body, but… He couldn’t have. How would she know if he did anyway?! … Basil had grabbed her by the shoulders and spoke before he knew what he was saying.

_ “Take me to him right now.” _


	3. Transition to Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi yes hello I am not dead but I also don't upload consistently! This is the trip Basil and Miss Kitty take to get to the secret whereabouts of Ratigan... You'll be meeting him next chapter ;)c

Usually, when dressing for a funeral or visiting a grave, you would wear a black suit. Or at least, something formal that was considered respectable. Something you would definitely not wear to see a dead man is a showgirl dress that came up around your hips and made your thighs look… Well, far more attractive in all honesty. Basil’s form was definitely accented well in the outfit that Miss Kitty chose for him. But it was hardly appropriate for the event, and even more so for climbing through sewer pipes behind Miss Kitty. She navigated the area with no problem, though, even in her own dress. Mimicking her movements would cause some more ease in not dirtying his clothing. Still, ultimately it was bound to get a little stench on it from their location.

  
After what seemed to be hours, but was really only a 10-minute walk in heels, they emerged upon a familiar scene above the manhole. It was… Familiar in the sense that it still had the structure of Ratigan's lair, but it was disheveled, rotten, and smelled of sewer water more than Basil did. He stood next to the hole and swiped off any cobwebs or muck that had clung to him. Miss Kitty had done the same thing with a swipe of her tail, graceful and precise. She beckoned him forth with a wave of her hand and went towards the old barrel.

  
Was… Was she delusional? Basil couldn’t help but be a bit skeptical… There was clearly no one inside. But still, he pushed forward. He more timidly walked behind her as she casually strode up to the abandoned building. She walked to the center… Oh, the inside was even horrible. The floor was hardly able to be seen under the scum that clung to it. The carpet was molded and crunchy under the mice’s footsteps. It made a shudder of uneasiness go up pitiful Basil’s spine. They went across the ruined room until they reached the area where Ratigan’s makeshift throne had sat. It was no longer fit for a king… It was not even fit for a lowlife to have a seat in. It would be more of a torture device than a place to rest.  
Carefully, Miss Kitty began to push it to the side. Basil was about to make a remark for her to stop, as she would undoubtedly contract some sort of illness from touching the ugly thing when the flooring underneath was revealed. A trap door. The mere sight made Basil blink in his shock, and he stammered for a moment. He had led the search of the Scotland Yard to seize all that Ratigan had stolen… He did not even think of moving the throne. Even in death, that rodent was one sneaky bastard!

  
The showgirl quickly clapped and rubbed her hands to remove any of the remaining residues that had decided to cling to her lovely white fur. She gestured for Basil to get the door and, based on her expression, to be snappy about it. He did as he was instructed, of course. Best not to keep ladies waiting… If Ms. Judson was any sort of experience in learning that lesson.

  
After lifting the rusted ring and raising the creaking trap door, the ivory mouse slipped into the entrance swiftly. This could be leading to a death trap for Basil. It could be a one-way ticket to a swarm of police officers to put the tawny mouse in jail. The number of possibilities swarmed his thoughts, and he was frozen in place. But there was one possibility… The one thing that brought him here. Ratigan… Alive.

  
The mouse jumped in before another thought could deter his journey. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes this is a little shorter and not much happens but I wanted to help set the scene a little better! Sorry it took me so long!

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and Kudos are very much appreciated! Giving me ideas for future chapters would be nice since I'm kind of going along with my thoughts like a train barreling downhill. I am not in control when I write. Feels like I'm being possessed by the characters in the story. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the first chapter!


End file.
